Given that it's been a while since I wrote a post here, I thought it was about time to say something - particularly as I've been away for a couple of nice weekends recently, so thought I could talk about them.
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The first mini-holiday, albeit 2 days only, was almost a month ago now, and was in aid of my friend's 25th birthday - so, to celebrate, we went to Paris. We are both huge fans of the city (I would probably put it as my favourite in the world), and are both fairly experienced in it, so it seemed the logical choice.
We left fairly early on the Saturday morning, to get to St Pancras International in time to catch the 11 AM Eurostar. The weather, being mid October, was grey and cold. We made it to the station in good time, and boarded the train without problems. I always feel rather guilty on the Eurostar, because the wheelchair necessitates me to travel First Class (there is no available space elsewhere) even though we only pay for an Economy ticket. Seems grossly unfair, but in this particular circumstance I usually manage to overcome my moral objections and enjoy the comfy surroundings and slap-up free lunch and bottle of (actually not bad) wine.
So a pleasant 2 hours passed, and we emerged at the Gare du Nord and easily found our nearby hotel. This was basic, but comfortable - not particularly full of character, but certainly not as soulless as some of the places I've been to. After a quick unpack, we went out. The main planned event of the weekend was an evening in Montmartre - for those unfamiliar with this area, this is a part of northern Paris located on a steep hill overlooking the city, full of old narrow cobbled streets, restaurants, cafes, clubs and many famous landmarks - the Sacre Coeur and the Moulin Rouge being two examples. It was only a 20 minute walk from our hotel, and we caught the Funicular (sort of cable car) all the way to the top, to avoid the 300-odd steps. The weather, by this time, had dramatically improved, and we were able to catch a rather impressive sunset over Paris from the steps outside the Sacre Coeur. For some reason, and looking back I see how silly this was, I was rather surprised how busy it was - street performers, musicians, and crowds and crowds of people, all of whom seemed to have the same idea as me. Who would have thought it?!
Anyway, it didn't matter, and after watching the sunset we spent an hour or so strolling through the streets, stopping every so often for a Kir. We (purposefully) came across a cafe called Les Deux Moulins, immortalised for being where Amelie worked. Unfortunately, however, I didn't see her...
Eventually, after a couple of hours of wandering, we had dinner at Le Moulin de la Galette - one of the oldest places in the area and one of the original windmills in Montmatre - and somewhere I had (fortunately) booked well in advance. The meal was excellent (see my food blog, The Peripatetic Foodie - http://theperipateticfoodie.blogspot.co.uk/ - for more details on this), and after a quick look at the Sacre Coeur by night, we eventually returned to the hotel (again via the superb Funicular) after a very pleasant evening.
The next morning we awoke to a slightly greyer and wetter day, but nevertheless we were determined to make the most of it. Breakfast, unfortunately, was a low point - slightly stale croissants and, worse, surprisingly poor coffee - so we didn't delay and instead caught a bus straight down to the river. After wandering around the Hotel de Ville and Notre Dame (both impressive, as always) we had a coffee overlooking the Seine before wandering the shopping streets south of the river such as St Germaine.
Being Sunday, most places were obviously shut, so after crossing the river again and wandering around the grounds of Le Louvre (that wasn't really time to go in, and we were both regulars there anyway), we had a quick lunch in a nearby cafe. Finding the relevant bus stop back to the hotel proved to be surprisingly difficult and slightly stressful, but eventually we did made it back to the Eurostar in good time. The journey back was uneventful, again with a nice meal (which we didn't really want or need, but had anyway), and we were welcomed back to London by the pouring rain. Despite that end, however, a great weekend.
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The only downside to the whole idea was the necessity to fly. I wouldn't say I was afraid of flying - I would much rather go that way, in a ball of flame, than the way I shall probably go - but I just really don't like it. For me, it is a necessary evil, and something to be got over as soon as possible to allow the holiday or trip to properly begin. Although I fully understand the science of air travel (i.e. why a massive metal object stays in the air), at the time it is always feels downright wrong.
Anyway, despite my misgivings, we left early on the Friday morning and made it to Heathrow in good time. In fact, way too early. Checking in was uneventful (we are not novices these days!), and we were ushered through security and passport control with embarrassing speed giving us a good hour's wait by the boarding gate. Time passed, and we boarded the (worryingly small in my mind) plane without incident. Once everyone else had boarded, there was then a long delay while they announced the plane steps couldn't be retracted, which did nothing for my nerves. It was eventually sorted, however, and eventually we took off and landed a couple of hours later in Italy without incident. Our Italian friend met us at the airport and, after a quick turnaround in the hotel, we had a wonderful meal at their house - again, see my food blog for more details. Despite not doing a great deal, it had been a long day so, after quite a late dinner we returned to the hotel, tired but nicely full of pasta…
The hotel, being one of the NH chain, was again very nice but not particularly full of character. It was, however, perfectly comfortable and suited our needs well. We awoke reasonably early to hazy sunshine, and after breakfast (which was impressive, albeit very busy and a bit of a bun-fight to get to any food) we walked into the main square, the Piazza Maggiore, to meet our friends by Neptune's statue.
The square was amazingly busy, with street performers, dancers, musicians and hundreds of people. There was some sort of parade going on, resembling our Remembrance Day ceremonies, so we watched that briefly before having a guided tour of some of the older buildings. Our Italian friend is a full-time tour guide of Bologna, so we were given the star treatment - she took us into several churches, cathedrals and some of the older University buildings (I gather the University is the oldest in Europe, being founded in 1088, which *I think* predates our Oxford).
So we had a very interesting (and academic) morning, before being taken to her favourite deli for a "free" lunch. I say "free" - they gave us ample tastings of meats, cheeses and wine which was easily enough for a light lunch, however the deal was clearly that we would buy stuff afterwards. Of course, we did.
Our Italian friends had to return for the afternoon to look after the dog (a lovely old black labrador called Pixel) and to have their usual siesta, so we spent a pleasant afternoon wandering the city before returning to the hotel to change. The weather by this time had clouded over, but it didn't rain and, actually, it wouldn't have mattered if it had. One of the things Bologna is famous for is miles and miles of long colonnades or porticos - covered walkways (ranging from modern in style to incredibly old and ornate) on usually at least one side of the street, sometimes both, meaning it is possible to walk much of the city undercover.
We left the hotel in the early evening, returning to the Piazza Maggiore for an evening drink - the place was still bustling, and despite being early November it was still warm enough to sit outside.
We had a cocktail and shared a plate of cold meats and cheese (tapas style), before meeting our Italian friends and walking a short distance to a nearby restaurant. They had arranged a winetasting for us before our meal, which was superb - we tried a local lightly sparkling white and a full-bodied red, both of which were excellent. We had a superb meal (again, see the food blog for details), and once stuffed we eventually returned to the hotel - or rather, my parents returned to the hotel and my friend and I went for a final alfresco drink. The main square was still busy, with many of the bars playing music and clearly full of students. My sort of city.
Incidentally, at the restaurant there was another bottle on display that we saw (but didn't taste) - the only notable thing about this was its label. I took a photo of it, but dare not show it here as it's possible children will read this. Suffice it to say it was one of the most pornographic wine labels I've ever seen.
The next morning, we again awoke fairly early (or at least it felt early after all the wine the night before) and, once we had checked out of the hotel, we had a long walk to the bottom of San Luca (a cathedral at the top of a large hill overlooking the city, accessed by yet another 300-odd steps under a long portico). We didn't climb this. In fact, we didn't actually make it as far as the bottom, walking miles and getting a little lost on the way. But we saw it in the distance. For the rest of the day we parted company - my parents had lunch with our Italian friends, while we continued to wander the city. The weather, by this time, was remarkable - despite being early November, I would estimate at least 20°C in the sun and easily warm enough for regular coffee stops outside in just shirtsleeves. We found a lovely little place for lunch, and spent a very relaxing day.
Finally, however, the dreaded moment arrived, and it was time to get back on the plane. Our Italian friends took us to the airport, and yet again we arrived way too early and spent a good couple of hours sitting by the boarding gate. The flight back, fortunately, was again uneventful, and yet again we returned to the UK to be greeted by torrential rain. Not quite as bad as the gale the week before, but not far off. Nevertheless, the rain clearly never made it to Italy (that weekend at least), so all in all a complete success.
